From Communism to Capitalism

My assignment was two-fold. The first was to find ways to induce foreign motion picture companies to produce films in Georgia. The second was to establish new distribution channels outside Georgia for the company’s existing film library and future productions.

The next morning, our interpreter and driver appeared in a worn and battered Lada car to take us to the studio.

The driver, Zurab, was a dark, wiry chain-smoking individual. With his full black beard and flashing eyes, Zurab looked like a fierce bandit from the mountains of Georgia. We soon discovered that he needed a great deal of boldness and ferocity to navigate the car at high speed around the cavernous potholes on the shell-cratered roadways while simultaneously dodging wild drivers speeding toward us on the wrong side of the road. We careened and bounced through the torn up streets and in 20 minutes reached the far side of the city.

Our first view of the Georgian Film studios was a surprise, not to say a shock. As we drove in the main gate, we disturbed a pack of mangy dogs that were lying idly about the entrance. They were not watchdogs but mere strays seeking human companionship or food.

The grass surrounding the main office building was knee high, and there, grazing peacefully, was a herd of horses roaming free. The horses were content to do their part in keeping the grass on the front lawn under control.

The studio also had a small private zoo just behind the sound stages. The zoo held peacocks, swans, goats, rabbits, other small animals, and even a bear. Some of the wire cages were broken. The rabbits and various birds were wandering about.

It was hardly the sort of studio environment one finds in Hollywood. Nevertheless, Georgian Films was a large operation in which some very talented actors and directors had worked for many years. Georgia is known throughout Europe for its artistic people – skilled in drama, music, and poetry.

We were taken to meet Rezo Chkhedzie, the General Director. "Mr. Rezo" (as everyone called him) was the most famous film director in the country. Several of his films were classics, shown over and over throughout the Soviet Union. He was so well known that children and adults would gather around him wherever he went, calling his name and wanting to shake his hand. Mr. Rezo jumped to his feet as we entered his office.

"Ah, Mr. Gordon and Mrs. Priscilla." (In Georgia, people are customarily called by their first names, preceded by some title.)

Priscilla and I were enveloped in turn by a bear hug embrace and kissed three times on our cheeks - once each for the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.

Mr. Rezo spoke no English, so the rest of the conversation was carried out through our interpreter.

"Welcome to Georgia. We have been looking forward to your visit. With your help, the Georgian film industry will rise from its ashes like the Phoenix bird!"

"I will certainly do my best, Mr. Rezo, but I can not promise miracles."

"No matter, together we will succeed, but first some refreshments."

He called to his secretary who immediately appeared bearing a tray of fruit, cookies, soft drinks, Georgian wine, and vodka. Vodka is a bit strong at 9:00 A.M. but "When in Rome ....." After we had toasted one another and chatted a while, Mr. Rezo stood up and beckoned.

"Mr. Gordon, we have arranged an office for you to use. It is on the opposite side of my secretary's office."

We walked through a connecting door into a small sparsely furnished office. It had a table, two chairs, and a credenza but no telephone or intercom.

"Is there a phone or fax machine for me, Mr. Rezo?"

"Unfortunately, we have only one telephone in the entire building. It is on my desk. But you can feel free to use it whenever you wish."

"Is there a fax machine somewhere in the studio?"

"Regrettably no, but an office in town is kind enough to let us send messages from their fax service."

"How about a photocopy machine?"

"Ours is broken, but if you wish to copy, we can send someone to a shop in the city to make copies there."

"Do you by any chance have a computer which we could use for word processing or to send e-mail?"

"We have an old one, but it lacks a modem. Never mind, let us go back to my office and finish our tea."

I wondered how we could communicate with film producers and distributors abroad without an adequate telephone, fax, or e-mail connection.

"Oh well," I thought, "if this were an easy problem to solve they wouldn’t have had to get someone from the United States to help them. That’s what I’m here for."

I was soon to discover that the lack of modern office equipment would be the least of my concerns. There were serious problems related to Georgia’s infrastructure and the country’s economic situation (in addition to the studio’s own production and financial difficulties) which would pose major challenges to our ingenuity.